


To Reclaim The Throne

by demonologistindenim



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10 Minute Writing Prompt, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonologistindenim/pseuds/demonologistindenim
Summary: Six years after abdicating the throne and shutting the Gates of Hell – permanently, he’d thought – in order to once again help save the world, Crowley finds himself in the unenviable position of needing to reclaim his crown. One-shot canon-divergent ficlet. Complete.
Kudos: 1





	To Reclaim The Throne

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the [Writing Prompt:](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/writing-prompt-s/638951842405040128) After a demon king successfully takes over the world, he soon becomes bored and erases his memories and changes his appearance. 16 years later a young warrior sets off to take back the kingdom, unaware that he’s the one who took it in the first place.

Six years after abdicating the throne and shutting the Gates of Hell – permanently, he’d thought – in order to once again help save the world, Crowley finds himself in the unenviable position of needing to reclaim his crown.

“You know you don’t have to do this.” Sam sounds unusually supportive. His massive frame fills the doorway of Crowley’s study in the bunker. Sam stuffs his hands into his pockets, shrugs his shoulders, a hint of puppy-dog eyes peeping out from under his brow. “We can find another way. We always do.”

“As much as I appreciate the high regard you hold us all in,” Crowley replies, not looking to start a fight but the whole situation adding a long-retired edge to his voice, “I hardly see another option that doesn’t lead to yet another world-ending scenario. Best to get it over and done with.”

“But you’re talking about becoming a full-fledged demon again. Giving up…” The rest, Sam leaves unsaid.

Ah, yes. Everything that Crowley is giving up to once again become the King of Hell.

Everything he has gained over the last half dozen years, through struggle and amends and soul-searching. Crowley will be giving up working side by side with the Winchesters, the respect and trust he’s earned among hunters and supernatural scholars. He will be giving up the friendships he has made, his hard-won place in the extended Winchester family. His seat in the Impala. The bittersweet ache of knowing he is saving lives, rather than destroying them. Crowley will be giving up the chance to ever complete the cure. To have the mending pieces of his essence finally reform into a fully restored soul.

Demons don’t have souls, or friends, or family. And the King of Hell cannot afford such things. He cannot afford to put the people he cares about at risk by continuing to care about them.

But in giving up these things, Crowley can secure the immense power of Hell for the greater good, rather than allowing it to run rabid over the world now that the Gates are reopened. He can ensure demonkind remains under a firm hand, one disinclined to possession and torture and turning souls into more monsters. Better the demon with a remnant of humanity within him on the throne, rather than some frothing, bloodthirsty black-eyed beast.

That does not mean this all hurts any less. Or that Crowley will have an easy time of retaking the throne. After all, he has no allies in Hell any longer, no real power there. It will be a long and bloody climb, and at the end of it – if he succeeds – Crowley will only find himself enthroned upon a pile of bones and broken souls.

It isn’t what he wants, not any more. But he has to try.

“What I am giving up,” he replies to Sam, not a little sternly, “will gain you lot quite a bit. So if there absolutely must be tears, I expect them to be tears of gratitude.” His sideways squint at the hunter only earns him a sad little huff, followed by an understanding nod.

Crowley sighs, resigning himself. Standing in front of the mirror, he slips on the freshly-tailored jacket of his new suit, adjusting his tie. Attempts a self-assured, sly smirk.

The man in the mirror stares back at him, a stranger.

“This is what we do, isn’t it?” He asks softly, after a moment. “Make sacrifices for the greater good.” He means it to sound mocking, but it comes out a little too sincere. A little too desperate for his liking.

“Ack!” The guttural Scottish sound of dismissal is a little coarser than Rowena normally allows, revealing a trace of her tanner’s daughter roots. “Listen to ‘im!” She scolds, as she appears beside Sam in the doorway, pushing her away into the room and singlehandedly dismantling the previously solemn moment.

“ ‘Sacrificing for the greater good?’ ” Rowena’s lips curl and eyes roll as she mocks his misery. “You’ve been around these Winchesters far too long, if that’s the best you’ve got, Fergus.”

It’s insufferable how grateful she can sometimes make him feel. Somehow, Rowena always knows when to play coy and superior, stroking his ire and providing appreciated distraction from unwelcome and unhelpful thoughts.

“You’ve got a better idea, then?”

“No,” she admits, without backing down in the least. “But the brown-haired highlander of a man jamming up your doorframe is right. We do always manage to find a way. Just because the village has gone and lit a pyre to burn a witch on, it does’na mean you have to throw yourself on it.”

That is oddly inspiring. And she didn’t even add, “like the absolute fool that ya are” or anything like that at the end.

Which only makes Crowley deeply suspicious.

“Why is it,” he wonders in an apprehensive tone, “that of everyone, it is _you two_ that have come to offer such rousing words of defiance and self-determination?”

As Sam and Rowena exchange a look, Crowley feels both a terrible hollowness where he should have a soul, and a small flicker of hope for himself. Because wherever Dean and Cas – and likely Eileen – are right now, whatever it is they’re doing, it’s in an attempt to save him. It is in an attempt to close the Gates of Hell, or secure his claim to the throne, or spare Crowley having to give up that precious spark, this lingering trace of the cure that could one day become so much more. And likely risking their own lives or souls in the process.

“Damn it,” Crowley grinds out between his teeth, “ _what the hell_ have you all gone and done?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments always greatly appreciated! Link to [original Tumblr post here](https://demonologist-in-denim.tumblr.com/post/639887277812809728/writing-prompt-s-after-a-demon-king-successfully) in case anyone would be kind enough to reblog. Thanks for reading!


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